Song: Wicked Games Parra for Cuva
Draco Malfoy
I stilled outside of her door, pacing nervously like a pathetic little boy. I had never been this nervous before, not even on my wedding day to Astoria. I rolled back my shoulders and raised my fist to the door of her flat. I let out a deep breath and rasped my knuckles against the wooden surface.
Almost like she sensed my presence outside, Pansy flung open the door dramatically. Her and Potter stood there like two parents sizing up a teenage boy who was about to take their daughter on a date. Potter looked pissed, with a whiskey in hand as he glared at me, while Pansy was nearly bouncing off the walls. She yanked me in without so much as a hello and threw a crystal glass in my hand, pushing me onto the couch.
"Armena!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, turning back around to flash me a gleaming white smile.
I brought the glass to my lips and let out a long sigh. I had no idea how I dated Pansy Parkinson.
She was a nightmare.
Honestly if I think back on it, I don't know how we ended, it just kinda did with gaps and holes. For a while, I always thought there was someone there in stolen glances and in the shadows. It never made any sense, but I reasoned with myself that I was just traumatized from the war and being under the Dark Lord's command.
"You know" Pansy folded her arms over her chest, "you never sent me a dress when we dated."
I smirked up at her, raising my brows. She gave out a huff and narrowed her dark black eyes back at me. Truth was, I never gave Pansy anything when we dated. I don't think we even celebrated birthdays, she might have given me a gift on mine but that was it. I found our celebrations to be more sexual in nature: the quidditch pitch, a broom closet, an empty classroom, and common room even.
"It seems your wife is jealous," I mused to Potter.
"She's on fuckin' thin ice with me, Malfoy" he glowered at the raven haired witch. "She knows i'm not happy about this."
I furrowed my brow, about to ask him what he meant when Armena's bedroom door flew open. I felt my heart skip a beat, as I watched her in pure divine awe.
No, my heart didn't skip a beat— it stopped altogether.
I didn't know what witch craft she was using on me, but it was fucking working. She was the most magnificent creature that I had ever laid eyes on. She bit the corner of her lip, smoothing out the silky folds of the dress. Potter cleared his voice, reminding me that I should say something but I was tongue tied.
"Right—" I muttered, setting down my glass of whiskey on their coffee table.
I stood up, my black trousers falling around my ankles. Her eyes flickered over my body, her cheeks flushing the same shade as the crimson painted on her lips. Pansy let out a squeal, while Potter let out a groan, rolling his dark green eyes into the back of his head. I ignored his silent remarks and just continued to stare at her.
Her.
I felt the need to sweep her off her feet and carry her right back into the bedroom. I was cardinal desire with her. I wanted to rip that blood red fabric off her body, trailing my tongue down her neck. I wanted to see if she tasted as good as she did in Paris.
Her skin tasted like honey dripping off my tongue, her lips like cherries. I could only imagine that the rest of her tasted just as divine. I promised myself that I would be a perfect gentleman. That I wouldn't so much as lay a finger on her until we had a proper date or two, but part of me wanted to break that vow to myself. I wanted to dive right into her, wrap her body around mine and not let her leave the bedroom until I had ravished her completely.
I felt a low growl escape from the back of my throat at the thought of her naked body under my own.
I was so tempted in Paris to knock down the wall that separated our bedrooms. To blow a hole, crawl through it and finish what we started not minutes before on the kitchen counter. When she was on the counter, I could feel the heat come off of her, in that moment, and I knew she was just as turned on as I was. Then it just ended with her saying she couldn't and my harsh words. I waited up until I heard her walk back to her bedroom, which wasn't until hours after I told her she would end up alone. My fucking words to her, nothing more than bitterness rolling off my tongue. Waiting to hear her open her door caused something to stir inside of me. Deep inside of me, it ached and churned, almost as if I was feeling her pain— the very pain that I was causing. I could still taste her on my lips. I could still taste the wine that was stained on both of ours, as we crashed into each other. I could still hear her satisfying moans in my ears. I thought about it many times these past two weeks. I thought about how I shouldn't have waited. I should have knocked down her door, entering her room. I should have picked her up and slammed her into the wall. I should have growled into her ear and tell that she was mine and I was going to do with her what I pleased.
It took a lot for me to get over the fact that she rejected me not only once, not twice but three times. I had never in my life experienced a woman so frustrating and infuriating as Armena. She was like Fiendfyre: effortless to have in your reach, but difficult to grasp and control. It was maddening and would drive any sane man right to the fourth floor of St Mungo's.
"You look" I ran my hand over my mouth.
Words escaped me, like someone had hexed my tongue or poured a sticky substance in my mouth. I should have showered her in endless compliments, collapsing down onto my knees and worshiping at her feet.
Yet, I just stood there speechless.
Pansy cleared her voice, a clear indicator that we were both standing there awkwardly in the middle of their flat. I scratched the back of my neck, looking down sheepishly.
"Should we?" I muttered, glancing up at her. "Should we go?"
She nodded her head, glancing towards her roommates. Potter narrowed his eyes at her, then over to his wife. His actions perplexed me. It wasn't like I was just some random bloke taking her out on a date, he knew me and yet he was acting like I was some wolf on the hunt. I shook my head following her out of the flat, closing the door behind us. We walked down the short flight of stairs, out into the quiet muggle street. An action that seemed so mundane when you were used to traveling by apparition and flue.
"Where are you taking me?" she finally spoke, glancing up at me.
"Do you trust me?" I asked.
"I am allowing you to take me out on a date" she turned to face me. I watched as her lips fought to pull up into a smile. "I think that equates to some amount of trust, wouldn't you agree?"
"Good point" I smirked.
We stood there under the streetlamps golden glow, both of us gazing into each other's eyes. I reached forward and brushed my hand against her cheek bone, watching as she took in a sharp breath. I tucked a loose strand of rich chocolate hair behind her ear ever so carefully. I let my hand linger there for a minute, before I dropped it to my side.
"It's just around the corner" I sighed. "We can walk, yeah?"
We walked side by side down the narrow road in complete silence. I listened to her breathing, taking a note of every single time her hand brushed against mine. It was taking all of my strength not to shove her up against the brick walls that we passed. I could apparate her back to Malfoy Manor and make dessert out of her naked body. I was thankful when we finally reached the rusty old door next to a pawn shop. I wrapped my knuckles against the door three times before the janky slot slid open, revealing a gaunt looking man with jet black hair and a curled mustache up to his cheek bones. His face lit up once he recognized who it was, sliding the slot back with a slam. I could hear the gears turning on the other side as the copper door began to fold open. I glanced down to Armena with a smirk.
"Come here often?" she asked, raising her brows at me.
"I wouldn't say often" I motioned for her to enter first.
"So this is where you take all of your dates then?" she half turned talking over her shoulder.
She stopped right before a second door, where a man in a top hat was greeting the patrons. I placed my hands on either side of her hips, my fingers lightly drumming on her dress. I bent down so that my lips were level to her left ear.
"You are the first girl I have ever taken here" I breathed, watching as her skin was quick to flush with goosebumps.
"Oh" she breathed.
"Ah" the man in the top hat smirked a sly grin, "we have been expecting you."
He opened up the second door, motioning for us to follow him through. The room was small and intimate, candles strategically placed throughout the room. Their wax dripped onto the surfaces as they continued to melt, signaling that they have been burning all day. Black lacquered cafe tables sat scattered throughout the venue with a small stage in the back. Translucent metallic curtains hung from various places, making it seem like we were walking through the milky way. Copious portraits hung around the room in ornate gold frames. The paintings had no rhyme or reason, some were portraits of famous muggle's and others were boudoir images. The gentlemen led us to a secluded table tucked into the corner by a L-shaped purple velvet booth. Armena smirked, shaking her head as I helped her out of her black coat. I handed it to the attendant, moving to take off mine. I sat down next to her in the booth, leaning back with a pleased look on my face.
"So you took me to a muggle jazz club?" she shook her head as she flipped over the small menu.
"Well I figured we have already spent a few meals together, why not try something different?"
"They seem to know you here" she looked at me through the sides of her green eyes.
I nodded my head, holding back a smirk. I didn't want to tell her that I took her to a spot where Blaise and I tend to frequent quite a bit. I feared that it would dampen the mood.
"The music doesn't start until nine" I sighed, setting down the menu. "So we have quite a bit of time."
I placed my arms on the back of the velvet sofa, turning to look at her. She angled her torso towards me, a suspicious look in her emerald eyes. The light from the candles cast a golden glow around her features, making her look even more beautiful. The server came by with a glass of amber whiskey and blood red wine, setting them on the table before backing away.
"How did you?" She furrowed her brow and looked at me, confused by our sudden drink order.
I chuckled darkly, bringing the crystal glass up to my face.
"I have my ways, Lestrange" I nodded my chin towards her glass of wine. "I planned ahead, what can I say."
She bit her lip, shaking her head profusely. Armena glanced at me, looking up at her eyelashes as she held back a smirk. Without a second thought, she lifted up her glass of wine, matching my pose.
"Here's to second chances" I smirked.
Her eyes flashed an odd array of emotions, but the evidence was gone before I could decipher anything.
"Second chances" she breathed, her green eyes holding onto my own.
Our glasses clinked together in harmony, the ringing of crystal chiming in the air. I let the amber liquor burn my throat on the way down. Cedar wood, candied almonds, orange pith and brown sugar hung in my mouth.
"I want to apologize for my behavior in Paris" I sighed, leaning forward on the table. "The way I acted after everything was childish and rude of me. I shouldn't have just assumed with you and I know that now."
"Draco," she breathed, reaching out to touch my forearm, "please don't be sorry."
The same forearm that housed my dark mark. For a second I thought that I could feel the warm buzz beneath my skin under the dark black ink. She noticed my discomfort and pulled away quickly, grabbing her glass of wine and taking a large sip.
"No" I ran my hands through my hair, "I treated you like how Atticus treated you."
She let out a loud scoff, nearly spitting out her wine.
"Are you really going to compare what happened in Paris to Atticus Diggory?" she rolled her eyes. "You and Diggory are two completely separate entities. He was just a warm body to fill a void that I have been feeling for a long time. With you, Draco it's different. What I feel with you is—"
I was sitting on the edge of the velvet booth, nipping at every single word that was coming from her cherry red lips. I wanted her to continue, I wanted to know what she felt with me but just as soon as her walls dropped, they were right back up.
"Why do you do that?" I found myself asking the brown haired witch in front of me.
Her eyes flickered up instantly, her brow furrowing at my question.
"I don't know what you mean?"
"Why do you hide who you are?" I rubbed the back of my neck.
She picked up her glass of wine, throwing it back in one gulp. I raised my hand, signalling another round from the server. I furrowed my brow as she looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the white marks on her right hand.
"You have already told me about your family. I know you are a Lestrange, so that's not a mystery. You were in Azkaban and now you are paying a debt to the MInistry. I have respected your wishes and have not pushed or prodded but normally after I spend a night with a girl and a weekend in the most romantic city in the world, I would expect that we have reached a different level of our relationship. I mean correct me if I am wrong, Armena but I just want to know you. Walls down and all, the good the bad and the ugly."
"What if I told you I was dark?" she smirked.
She looked up at me through her thick black eyelashes, her green eyes glowing under the candle light of the club. In that moment, in that corner of the small jazz bar, I believed her. She looked absolutely wicked.
"There are different kinds of darkness, you might have to be a little more specific."
"Not as dark as you can get" she smirked, shaking her head. "I have played with Dark Magic, Draco. I have felt it swim around my hands. I have killed people, watched their crimson blood spill and I relished in the fact that it was on the floor. So what if I told you I was dark? Would you still want to pursue me or would you wake up tomorrow with a changed mind?"
I watched her, I watched as she studied my face. Her wicked smirk fell as we sat there in silence, the only sound was the soft jazz music in the background. The look that was dancing behind her emerald green eyes was fear.
The fear that I wouldn't accept her for who she was or her past endeavors. It was as if she was scared that I would run. It didn't scare me, I had grown up around Dark Magic my entire life. The Malfoy's and the Black's are known to dabble in it. I mean after all my grandfather Abraxas Malfoy was one of The Dark Lord's original followers. My father was a loyal Death Eater and even though I resented him for it, even in his death, I had willingly listened to the Dark Lord. I might have been kicking and screaming the entire time but I did it.
I shook my head, inching closer to her. Her body stilled, frozen completely as she stared at me with wide eyes. I leaned into her, my lips going to her ear. I watched as goosebumps flooded her skin in reaction to my warm breath on her porcelain skin.
"If you are trying to scare me away by telling me that you are wicked as they come, well try again."
My lips found her neck, right under her ear. I felt her skin shiver under my lips in reaction.
"We are two sides of the same coin, Armena" I smirked, pulling away. "My blood is just as dark as yours."
Her eyelids fluttered, as her breasts rose up and down rapidly. She licked her lips, watching my face intently. I had to force myself to look away, down towards the emerald ring on my pinky finger. I wristed the delicate jewel, feeling the same sense of nostalgia that I felt in Romania all those weeks ago.
"That night" I sighed, "that night all I felt was white rage. There was no way to describe it, I can't think of the last time that I felt like that. It was like my body was consumed with something greater than what I am."
I met her eyes instantly. Her green eyes were bright as she stared at me. It was a look that could have swallowed me whole, chewed me up and spit me out.
"I felt like I was consumed with you" I breathed.
"Why do you think that was?"
"I don't know, one minute I was stroking the ring, talking to Weasley—" I reached for my whiskey, taking a generous sip. "I was talking to her, then I heard you and felt you."
I shook my head, meeting her eye again. Her eyes flickered to the emerald ring on my finger. There was something behind her eyes, it looked like she was remembering something. The look that was dancing in her eyes as she stared at the emerald stone was something dark and twisted.
"It's unheard of to travel as far as you did" she breathed, her eyes flickering up to my own.
"I know" I breathed.
I leaned forward on the table, making sure that she was looking directly into my eyes. I could hear the thumping of the jazz music in the background but I could care less. I wanted her to feel what I felt in that moment, I wanted her to understand that I was just as dark as she was.
"I wanted to kill him, Armena" I growled, "I wanted to rip out his throat, string up his intestines one by one. I wanted to watch his blood paint the floor and I wanted to do all of that because of what he did to you. I would have done it with a smile on my face because he touched you-- he touched you without your permission."
Her lips were against mine, rough but so gentle. There were no signs or reasons as to why she was kissing me but she was suddenly pressed against me. Her hands tangled into my hair. I didn't want to question it so I pulled her into me, letting our lips melt into each other.
"There is nothing you can say that will scare me" she breathed, her green eyes searching mine. "Draco I want to give myself to you. I have been waiting for you and I want you."
"Then give yourself to me Armena" I pressed my forehead against hers. "Give yourself to me because I want you too."
Our breaths were heavy under the soft glow of the jazz club. It felt like we were the only two in the club, I couldn't even hear them play my favorite melody in the background. I was fully focused on her. I looked down, picking up her hand. I flipped it around, tracing the fine white lines that were displayed ever so delicately on her wrist. I watched as her flesh became coated with chills, her body shivering in reaction. Her eyes stayed glued on her hand, watching intently as my finger danced around. I wanted to know more about why her and Pansy took an Unbreakable Vow. It seemed like such a midevil thing to do. It was rare for young witches to partake in such magic, it wasn't a common thing that you heard about everyday.
"Give yourself to me" I breathed again.
"Okay" she whispered.
I cupped her face in my hands, pulling her lips back to my own. My tongue slipped into hers and she accepted it willingly. I needed more, I needed to taste more. She tasted sweet like honey on my tongue. She tasted like a cool fall day and like apples. She let out a soft moan, her hands gripping at the lapels of my blazer. Before I had any time to think, she apparated us right outside of her flat door. If we kept this up, I would have her up against the wall in a matter of seconds.
No, I wanted to take this slow.
She wasn't just some witch for me to fuck. She wasn't just another feening Ministry employee for me to send on her merry way once I was done. She was so much more, she was what I had been waiting for my entire life.
I pulled away from her, I didn't want to do it but I did. We were both breathless, gasping at air trying to make sense of what just happened. I ran my hand over my jaw, my thumb dragging over my lip.
"Armena, I am going to take my slow ass time with you" I breathed, smirking at her. "I want to make sure that you want me. I don't want a repeat of Paris because next time I have you on my kitchen counter, I am not planning on stopping until you are coming around my fingers."
She stood there gawking at me, her hand pressed against her chest. I moved towards her slowly, like she was my prey and I was stalking her. I knew the look on my face was something outright possessive. I didn't care, I wanted her to understand that she was mine.
"But I am thinking that I want to kiss you..." I growled in a low voice.
In an instant, my hand was at the nape of her neck, angling her head upward. My lips hovered over her own. I hesitated for a second, wondering if I should do this again but then she kissed me and I kissed her back.
I kissed her back with fever and need, want and desire. I pushed her back so that she was against the apartment door. My hands were all over her, like I couldn't get enough of her. I wanted to devour her. It was everything that a kiss with a lover should be: passionate, heated, romantic, sensual and divine.
"Please" she breathed into my mouth, her hands pulling me closer into her.
Her hips pressed up against my own as she let out the most ravenous moan. I knew what she was asking, I could feel the heat radiating off her body. I wanted to lift her up and carry her into her bed, never leaving the safety of her sheets. I wanted fuck her to so badly, but for the first time in my life, I said no.
"I'm not going to fuck you" I could feel the corners of my lips pull up into a devious smile, "yet."
If we did this, if I fucked her then there would be no turning back. I wanted to make sure that I was her final choice before I put myself on the line because I knew that I was falling for her.
I could have sworn that she let out a whine, her lips pulling up into a pout. I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at her actions. I wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck, pulling her into my body.
"Sweet dreams, Aremna" I breathed, "I'll see you on Monday."
With my words, my lips found the top of her head, kissing her gently before I watched her slip into her flat.